A Time For Us (Michael Kaplan Mysteries)

by David W. Cowles

  All the time, Myra was keeping an eye on Morgan. Morgan had been at the blackjack table for over an hour. As often happens when a high roller starts winning, a small crowd gathered around to watch her play. Perhaps Morgan’s outlandish costume added to their interest. Myra laughed inwardly whenever the cocktail waitress or the dealer referred to Morgan as Your Royal Highness. She overheard several customers whisper enviously about the beautiful African princess who was a high-stakes gambler. One man lewdly remarked he’d sell his soul to get Morgan into bed. Myra could relate to that. She’d given up her home and husband to be with Morgan and didn’t regret it for a minute.

  THREE PLAINCLOTHES OFFICERS searched Michael’s condo thoroughly, using elaborate electronic equipment. “The place is clean now, Lieutenant Caruso. The only things we found were the camera in the bedroom ceiling and a miniature transmitter,” one of them reported. “No audio bugs.”

  “Thanks, Jason. I appreciate you guys coming out at night on such short notice. I hope I didn’t disrupt your dinners too badly.”

  “That’s okay, Mark,” Jason replied cordially. “We’re used to it.”

  Michael and Kimberly stood by anxiously. They didn’t want to disturb Mark until he completed his inspection of the camera and transmitter. Finally, he inserted them in a plastic bag and placed the bag in his briefcase.

  “This was a professional installation. Very professional,” he commented.

  “What do you mean, Mark?” Michael asked.

  “First of all, the perp had to get inside the gate and into your condo without making any of your neighbors suspicious. Since you’re home every night, he had to break in during the day. He also had to circumvent your alarm system, which happens to be one of the most sophisticated on the market.

  “Next, he managed to install the video camera and transmitter without any indication he was here. He needed a ladder to get into the crawl space in the ceiling. He had to be careful not to leave any plaster crumbs or dust when he drilled a hole for the lens to poke through. He must have been wearing rubber gloves, for there wasn’t a single fingerprint anywhere.

  “The camera and transmitter are state-of-the-art. Only law enforcement agencies can buy these snooping devices legally—it’s against the law for individuals to possess them in the United States. Of course, they’re available on the underground market, but cost an arm and a leg.

  “There isn’t a single shred of physical evidence that would lead me to the person who installed this equipment. As I said, he has to be a highly-trained professional.”

  “He has to be someone who knows us,” Kimberly speculated. “Somebody who found out about our ménage and wanted to blackmail us.”

  “You’re being blackmailed, all right, but not for money,” Mark stated. “For your silence. It’s my opinion that Myra—and you too, Michael—are close to finding out who the Sliced Nipples killer is, or, at least, he thinks you’re hot on his trail. My gut feeling is it’s Rick Lacey. He would be familiar with this type of surveillance equipment and know how to install it so you would never know it was there. Who knows? Lacey could have stolen the camera when he was with the FBI.

  “Did you tell Myra about this incident yet? I’m thinking perhaps I should have someone from Metro keep an eye on her around-the-clock.”

  “I tried to get Myra to come over here so I could show her the video and the note. I figured that if we were being watched, someone might be listening to us, too. I didn’t want to tell Myra about the video over the phone. But she got real huffy and hung up on me. I tried to call her right back, but she’d apparently turned off her cell phone. Myra was playing video poker in a casino somewhere; she didn’t say which one. I don’t know how to reach her until tomorrow.”

  “That’s too bad. I just hope tomorrow won’t be too late.” Mark reached for the DVD and opened his briefcase.

  “You’re not going to take that with you, are you, Mark?” Michael asked worrisomely.

  “I have to,” Mark replied. “It’s evidence. Don’t worry, buddy boy, I’m not going to watch it. I’ll keep it under lock and key.

  “By the way—congratulations, Kim. Michael tells me you and he are getting married in the near future.”

  Kimberly smiled broadly. “We certainly are, Mark. You’ll definitely be invited to our wedding.”

  Thirty-Five

  “DID YOU REMEMBER to bring the handcuffs and rope?” were the first words uttered by Lois Lewis when Rick Lacey opened the door to his room in the Blue Hawaii’s hotel tower.

  “Yes. Of course. That’s what you told me to do, wasn’t it?” Rick was not looking forward to this evening’s command performance with Lois. Not at all. He’d had but a glimpse of his new daughter and wanted to go to the hospital to visit his wife. Perhaps he could still do so, if he pleased Lois enough and she finished with him early.

  “What’s in your bag?” he asked, noting that Lois was carrying an overnight case. “You’re not planning on us being here all night, are you? I need to go see Susan at the hospital, and I absolutely must be back in the hotel at midnight to collect some money.”

  “I just packed a few things I’ll be needing for later,” Lois smiled cryptically. “Don’t worry, Rick. I’ll be out of here in two hours at the most. I have a little errand to take care of tonight. You’ll be able to be at the hospital and here at midnight. Both.” She laughed, but Rick failed to see the humor in her statement.

  Rick quickly undressed and laid down on the king size bed in a supine position. He knew what Lois wanted—the bondage scenario. He had taught it to her. Originally, it was Lois who would be restrained while he practiced rough sex, but, ever since she learned she was pregnant, she insisted that he be the one in shackles.

  Lois clamped one pair of handcuffs to each of Rick’s arms, then ran a piece of rope beneath the bed, stretched it tight, and moored each end to one of the handcuffs. Next, she took another length of rope and secured one end to an ankle, ran that rope under the bed also, and, with Rick positioned in a spread-eagle pattern, she affixed the other end of the rope to his other ankle. When Lois had finished, Rick was unable to move more than an inch in any direction. The mere act of submitting complete control of his body to Lois thrust Rick into a state of arousal.

  “Hurry, Lois, get undressed,” he urged, all of his plans for later in the evening temporarily forgotten.

  “Don’t be so impatient, Rick,” she teased. “I’ve had to wait all day for us to be together. I killed time by planning a few surprises for you tonight.”

  Lois methodically shed her clothes and hung them in the closet. Rick expected her to climb on top of him, as was her custom, and start bouncing up and down. But she didn’t. She gently fondled him until he was fully erect, then teased with her tongue. When he began to moan in ecstasy, she took him in her mouth.

  “Oh, that feels fantastic, Lois,” he encouraged, as she applied suction and friction. There were a lot of things Rick didn’t like about Lois, but the way she gave head was not one of them.

  And then, she started biting. Nibbling gently at first, little love bites that felt good but made him wince. Then, harder, bites that really hurt.

  “Ouch!” he cried out. “What are you trying to do, draw blood?” he asked critically.

  “I already have, dear,” she said, looking up. Sure enough, blood—his blood—was dripping from her mouth. She lowered her head and resumed her activity with increased fervor.

  “Oooooow!” he yelled. “That hurts! That really hurts! Okay, Lois. That’s enough. Get on top of me and let’s get it over with, so I can get to the hospital before visiting hours are over.”

  He’d said the wrong thing. He knew it instantly. Lois bit him again, hard.

  “Stop biting me, you crazy bitch. Right now!” he yelped loudly.

  Lois stopped what she was doing and sat up on the bed. Rick breathed a sigh of relief. He assumed she was going to mount him, but, instead, she went to her overnight case and removed a roll of two-inch-wide silver-
gray duct tape.

  “What are you going to do with mooomph—” he muttered, as she pulled the duct tape from the roll and covered his mouth. Then, Lois continued rolling the tape all the way around Rick’s head, until she had applied three layers from the bottom of his nose to his chin. He was starting to look like an Egyptian mummy.

  “Okay, now we’re all set, Rick. You were getting much too loud, darling. I don’t want us to disturb any of the guests in the other rooms.” Lois grimaced sardonically. “So you think I’m a crazy bitch, do you? Well, if I’m crazy, you made me that way.

  “Do you remember the night you raped me in my office? I begged you to stop, but you wouldn’t. My pleading and struggling excited you even more. That’s when I decided my resistance served no purpose and told you to go ahead, do what you wanted. And then, I suddenly realized I actually wanted you to screw me; your violence had made me incredibly horny. Once you were inside me, I wanted you to stay inside me forever. When that bitch Nellie Sherman showed up, I couldn’t wait for you to get rid of her and come back and fuck me some more.

  “That weekend, you drove me to your cabin up in Utah, miles from the nearest neighbor, and tied me up. You wanted to teach me the pleasure of pain, you said. But you had all the pleasure and I had all the pain. When you tied me down and bit my nipples off I couldn’t stop screaming. The more I cried out, the more you fucked me. Finally, the pain in my breasts subsided, but by that time you’d made me so raw inside I started wailing from that agony. Still you kept on. You were insatiable. It was those pills you take, the ones that give you a hard-on for hours. I have to admit you were a good teacher, Rick. I think you’ll agree I was an apt student. When you’d finished with me, I craved pain as much as I craved sex. But—it didn’t take me long to realize that pain is always better to give than receive.

  “When we came back to Las Vegas I was a changed person. You’d turned me into a nymphomaniac. Like you, I could no longer get enough sex. The more depraved, the better I liked it. Since that weekend, I have done every despicable and demented thing you dreamed up. I have let you use every orifice of my body in every perverted way you could think of. I have even murdered for you. Yet, the more you abused me, the more I loved you. I was thrilled to be carrying our love child. All I required of you was your fidelity. We had a covenant, Rick, but you continuously broke it.”

  Again she took him in her mouth. Harder and harder she bore down with her teeth. Rick’s erection was long gone and his member flaccid, but Lois continued nonetheless. He struggled valiantly to free himself, but the knots held fast. Rick tried to cry out as Lois chewed him to a pulpy, bloody mass, like a piece of round steak a butcher had run through his tenderizer machine or a dead mouse a cat had toyed with for hours, but the duct tape prevented him from emitting any more than a muffled gurgle. His eyes turned red and became faucets for hot saline tears. Thick mucus poured from his nostrils.

  “Oh-oh,” Lois said. “I guess I bit down too hard. Darn. I bit it off,” she giggled cruelly, removing what remained of the bloody organ from her mouth and displaying it to him.

  Her statement could have gone unsaid. Rick knew instantly when Lois severed his penis from his body. The nerves in his groin caught fire and the conflagration spread throughout his tormented flesh. He was in intense pain, pain such as he had never before felt. Rick could not scream outwardly, as Lois had done that weekend in Utah, but he was howling inside. Panic raged over his countenance. He knew what Lois had already done, was petrified thinking about what she might do next.

  Lois climbed on top of him, squatting heavily on his chest. “The trouble with you, Rick, is you didn’t listen to me. I ordered you, LEAVE YOUR WIFE. But no, you want to go visit her in the hospital. I warned you, NO MORE OF YOUR WHORES, but you offered Morgan Penny $25,000 to sleep with you.

  “You were a bad, bad boy, Rick. You didn’t think Mama Lois would find out about Morgan, did you? But I did. I always found out about your whores. I tried to teach you how to behave, but you wouldn’t learn. I warned you, but you were stubborn. Morgan was the final straw. Now, I’m going to have to punish you.

  “When, after all my admonitions, you chose once again to be unfaithful to me, you signed your own death warrant. That’s right, Rick. You’re going to die tonight. Right here in this room. Right here on this very bed where you’ve screwed so many of your bimbos. Fitting, don’t you think?”

  Lois searched in Rick’s eyes and discerned raw terror, far more terror than any of her other victims had displayed. With satisfaction, Lois knew Rick believed her. He understood, without a shadow of doubt, she was going to kill him. Lois’s knowledge of Rick’s comprehension brought her to a violent orgasm.

  Rick struggled once more, in vain. He mustered up all his remaining strength and tugged arduously at the ropes, but the knots were secure and they held firm. The enormous effort to free himself drained Rick’s energy more than running a marathon and he lay still, hoping against hope Lois would change her mind, knowing all the while she would not. His body began to tremble involuntarily. The trembling turned to spasms, the spasms to writhing—as much writhing as was possible with his body immobilized. He was in extreme agony from the oral amputation, the mayhem of his manhood.

  Lois went back to her overnight case and retrieved a stiletto. First she made small incisions in the veins on the inside of Rick’s wrists. As his blood torpidly oozed out, she leisurely smeared it all over her body. First, on her face, so she looked like an Indian on the warpath. Then, on her breasts, painting a circle over the scars where her nipples had been. Next, she anointed her arms and legs. Finally, she covered her huge expanse of belly, the protrusion that encased and protected their unborn child. When she was decorated to her satisfaction, Lois poked a hole in each of Rick’s carotid arteries. Blood pulsed out—quickly at first, the spurts decreasing in intensity as the volume of blood inside his body diminished and the pool of blood on the mattress grew wider.

  Finished with the stiletto for bloodletting, Lois used the sharply pointed knife to castrate him, then inserted the blade in his rectum and twisted the handle. As Rick Lacey’s life ebbed away, Lois went again to her overnight case and removed a hacksaw. She waited patiently until the last death throes subsided. After severing his head and packing it carefully in a hatbox lined with a plastic trash bag, she took a leisurely shower and dressed in an immaculately white nurse’s uniform.

  Thirty-Six

  MYRA CHECKED HER WATCH. It was already after eleven-thirty and Morgan had given no sign she was getting ready to quit playing blackjack. Myra waited a few minutes longer, then laboriously carried six plastic buckets heavily laden with coins to a nearby change booth. She had caught the four deuces a total of three times and had $750.00 in quarters to cash in. Myra made certain she could still keep an eye on Morgan while the change girl was running the quarters through a coin counter. The girl counted out seven $100 bills, two $20 bills, and a $10 bill. Myra toked her ten dollars and secured the remainder of the currency in her wallet.

  When Myra approached the blackjack table and took a position immediately behind Morgan, the pit boss glared at her. He did not know Myra and Morgan knew each other. All he knew was that whales don’t like to be disturbed while they’re playing.

  The pit boss held up his hand like a traffic-control policeman. “I’m sorry, Miss, you’re going to have to stay back—” he began, moving toward Myra.

  Morgan turned around and saw Myra standing behind her. “It’s perfectly all right,” she said, in a phony British accent. “This lovely lady is my devoted traveling companion. What is it you want, dear? Do you need some more money to put in the slot machines?” She thrust a handful of thousand-dollar chips toward Myra.

  Myra stifled a chuckle. “No, your Royal Highness. Thank you, but I’ve played the machines enough for tonight. It’s ten minutes until twelve, your Majesty. You should turn in now. You know you require your beauty sleep. You can come back to the tables and gamble some more tomorrow.”

&nb
sp; Morgan went along with the gag. “Thank you for reminding me of the time, Miss Brotsky. You’re right, of course. It is late.” Then, turning to the dealer, she counted out twenty-five of the thousand-dollar chips and handed them to him for a tip. “It’s been a pleasure, my good man. I’ve enjoyed my evening immensely. If you ever travel to my country, please let me know when you arrive. I’ll see that you are afforded the royal treatment. We don’t have casinos for gambling, but I can arrange for you to meet many beautiful women.”

  The dealer bowed graciously. “Thank you, your Highness. The pleasure has been entirely mine.”

  Morgan and Myra headed for the cashier’s cage. “Heft this thing,” Morgan told Myra, handing her the faux leopard-skin purse.

  “Wow. It’s heavy,” Myra acknowledged. Gaming chips, being made of clay, weigh almost as much as metal tokens. “Did I see you give the dealer a $25,000 toke? Did Lacey tell you to do that?”

  Morgan grinned. “No, but he should have. If I’d stiffed the dealer, the other players and the pit boss would have been extremely suspicious of me. If you’re going to play a part, you’ve got to act the part. I’ve been tipping heavily all evening. Each time the cocktail waitress brought me a Coke, I gave her a thousand-dollar chip. I know the girl needs the money. Her husband just left her for another woman, and she has three kids at home.”

  “You know her, but she didn’t recognize you?” Myra asked incredulously.

  “If she did, she never said a word,” Morgan laughed, shrugging.

  “I won tonight, too,” Myra boasted. “I won $750 playing Deuces Wild. But I can keep my winnings. You have to turn yours back in. Tell you what I’ll do, Morgan. After you finish your business with Rick Lacey, I’m going to use some of my winnings to buy you a steak dinner. Or, lobster. Whichever you’d prefer. After we eat, if you’re not too tired, we’ll find a disco and go dancing,” Myra offered.